


Mountains of Fire

by LostMyWit



Series: Arijon short fics [11]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, First Meetings, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-14 21:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15397872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostMyWit/pseuds/LostMyWit
Summary: For guest LyaSand, who requested Jon and Arianne meeting on separate sides, in a manner similar to Jon and Ygritte.In which King Robert Baratheon declares war on Dorne, accusing them of plotting agsint them as news of his wife’s infedelity become widespread. To aid him, he names Ned Stark his new Hand, who brings his bastard son Jon, hero of the War-Beyond-the-Wall. While scouting in the Red Mountains, he meets An unexpected foe.





	1. Chapter 1

“The mountain is your mother,” Jon muttered, remembering the words the old ranger had told the green boy, years ago. “Cling to her, press your face up against her teats and she won’t drop you.”

He climbed cautiously, one step and then another, one step and then another, just like he’d learned in the Frostfangs, only the mountains he climbed now could not have been more different.

The Red Mountains of Dorne were hot and arid, and sand blew more than snow, but his task was much the same. He was one of a dozen or so men that had been sent to find a way for the host to sneak through the mountains, or least reach a more advantages position, and to kill any Dornish lookouts along the way.

In the place of any Stark colors, he wore a cloak that had been dyed to look like the rocks, and he had left his mail at the base of the mountain. He had little more than his sword, his dagger, and a rope.

He looked down at the ledge he’d been moving to get above, and was relieved to see the watchers still there, apparently unaware of his presence.

He checked the sun in the sky. It was late in the day, nearing dusk. He resolved to wait until dark. Then he would make his move.

  
The watchers didn't make a fire. They knew the consequences, and these mountains weren't cold enough to warrant one, besides.

He saw three shapes on the ledge beneath him, one standing, one sitting, and one lying down. He was closest to the standing figure, and he saw the outline of a sword on his hip.

Deathly quiet, Jon crept towards the Dornishman, dagger in hand. When he was about ten feet away, he picked up a small rock from the ground, and tossed it to the other side of the ledge.

The man turned away for only half a second, but it was long enough. In an instant, Jon had covered the distance and slit the man's throat. Just as quick, he drew his sword and stuck the second man before he could stand.

The third man was stirring, and Jon stood over him, preparing to end it, when he realized something.

It was a woman.

His second of hesitation was all she needed. The woman kicked his leg, throwing him off balance. She grabbed his sword arm, and pulled him to the ground. She pulled a dagger from her boot and held it to his neck.

Jon wasn't quite sure how to respond. Now that they were still, he could see her a bit better. Her hair was in ringlets, cut short and tied back. Her dark eyes were alight with exertion.

For a moment, he felt wildly reminded of his sister Arya. This woman had the same fierce look in her eyes.

“What's your name?” He managed to get out.

She pressed the knife against him. “You tell me yours.” She demanded.

“Jon Snow, of Winterfell.”

She stopped pressing her blade against his throat, but she kept it near. “You’re a long way from home, wolf bastard.”

“I go where I am commanded.”

Even in the dark, he could see that annoyed her. “You would kill innocents just because you’re told?”

Jon made a face. “Innocents? I fight the enemies of the crown and of my lord.”

“Dorne did not want this war!” She snarled. “The usurper and his dogs attacked without provocation, and-”

Jon took advantage of her anger to swing her off of him, and knocked her dagger from her hands. She threw a punch that he barely dodged, and pinned her to the ground.

“Who are you?” He demanded.

“Someone you’ll regret taking.” She spat.

He pressed her harder. “Give me a name, damn it!”

“Arianne Nymeros Martell!”

Jon felt his breath catch in his throat. “Prince Doran’s heir?” He croaked. He suddenly felt very conscious of their bodies touching, and how hard he was gripping her wrist. He almost wanted to get off of her, but he remembered how skilled she’d been with her knife. “What in the seven hells are you doing here?”

Arianne glared at him. “Would you expect me to wait in Sunspear while you and the usurper invade my homeland?”

Jon almost smiled. He was again reminded of Arya, who would have said much the same.

“If I let go of you to get my rope, do you promise not to try and escape?” He asked her.

“No.”

He sighed. He brought wrist together so he could hold both with his left hand as he reached for the coil of rope on his belt with the left.

“You can't expect me to climb the mountains with my hands bound.” She said, with just a hint of arrogance.”

Jon considered. “Would you rather I just kill you now?”

That gave her pause for a moment. “Can you take me to Eddard Stark?” she asked, sounding reluctant.

Jon was taken aback. “Why would you want to see him?”

“It is said that he is the most honorable lord in the seven kingdoms. If that is so, he will listen to me, and allow me to explain why this war is unjust.” She smirked, and it gave him chills. “Unless, you think your lord isn't a true enough man to hear me out.”

Jon would never admit it, but she had him stumped. “How do I know you won’t try to escape or slit my throat in my sleep?” He asked.

“I give you my word?” She suggested.

He wasn’t convinced.

She rolled her eyes. “You can bind me at night, and besides, we aren’t that deep in the mountains. What do you have to lose?”

“My head,” he muttered, but let go of her wrist and got off her all the same. His eyes fell on the corpses of the Dornishmen that he had killed.

“Who were they?” He asked.

She regarded him for a moment.

“Men at arms from House Fowler,” She answered. “Their names were Morgan and Davos.”

“Were they your friends?”

Arianne shrugged. “I did not know them well, but they were kind to me.”

They sat on the ground, a few from each other, unsure of how to proceed.

“I’m sorry,” Jon eventually said. “For whatever it’s worth.”

Arianne snorted. “It’s worth little, but thank you.” She looked at him, and for the first time, he realized how beautiful she was. Had they met in the day, he was confident he would have been awestruck by her. It would be just his luck for his first interaction with the greatest beauty he’d ever met to be while on opposite sides of a war, and at knife point.

“Can you promise me that I won’t be used as leverage against Dorne?” She asked.

Jon considered. “I can take you to Lord Stark, but he would be honor bound to tell King Robert, and he would want to use you to force Dorne to kneel.”

Arianne made a face like she had swallowed something bitter. “How is it honorable to be loyal to such a brutal oaf?”

“Robert is a good king!” Jon argued, not truly believing it, but feeling compelled to defend his father’s friend. “And it’s Dorne's fault for resisting and plotting against him!”

Arianne scoffed. “Is that what they told you?”

“Well… Yes,” Jon said, doubt forming at the edge of his mind. “Prince Oberyn tried to raise Dorne for Viserys Targaryan, and Prince Doran refused to come to renew his fealty to the King after the queen fled.”

“My father didn’t go to King’s landing because he’s too weak to go up the stairs!” Arianne told him, indignant. “And he offered to send my uncle or me in his stead, but the king took it as an insult. He declared this war on Dorne because he’s a brute that can’t stand to go without killing something.”

Jon looked at the ground. He didn’t want to agree with her, but she wasn’t wrong. He thought back to the looks of distaste his father had been wearing since the war began, most commonly when with the king.

“I think my father would listen to you,” he told her. “I think that he also dislikes this war.”

Arianne’s jerked her head towards him. “Your father? You’re Ned Stark’s bastard?”

Jon cursed himself for letting the word slip. He hated it when he reminded people of the of the one instance his father had faltered.

Arianne must have thought he was angry for a different reason, though, because she apologized for her words. “I don’t think anything of a person’s birth,” she assured him. “My cousins are all base born, and I love them all like sisters.”

Jon found that interesting, but he did not comment on it. “Do you truly think you can convince my father to get the king to call off the war?” He asked.

Arianne shrugged. “I can try. I have to try, to save my kingdom. And if anyone can call off the king, it’s Ned Stark.”

Jon nodded. “Then I’ll take you to him.”

“Thank you,” Arianne smiled at him, and it made his breath catch. “You seem a good man, Jon Snow. It’s a shame fate had us meet as foes.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arianne and Jon on the return trip.

They made good time. Arianne had expected for Snow to be slow going, but he traversed the mountains with ease. He had a natural endurance and he was sure footed at even the some of the most difficult parts of the climb. Eventually, she had to ask.

“Where did you learn to climb like this?” She asked.

He looked up at her from a little lower on the mountain face. “The Frost Fangs,” he answered. “During the war.” He continued to climb down.

“What war?” She called down.

“The War-beyond-the-Wall!” He called back. He jumped the last few feet down onto a ledge and looked up at her waiting.

She wondered vaguely if he would try to catch her if she jumped off. She elected not to try. Yet.

“What was it like?” She asked him, after climbing down.

He looked back at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“The War-beyond-the-Wall. Tell me about it. I don’t know anything about it.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “It started when a man named Mance Rayder named himself King-beyond-the-Wall. He united all the wildlings, the people that live north of the Wall, under him, and they began to come south. My father called his banners and went to meet him, alongside the Night’s Watch. I went with him.”

“How old were you?”

Snow shrugged. “Perhaps five and ten. Probably too young, but I was eager. I wanted to make my father proud.”

Arianne nodded. She had an idea of what that was like. “You still haven’t told me how you learned to climb so well.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. Then, he began again, quieter. “I volunteered to go out with a group of Rangers, men from the Watch that knew the lands beyond the Wall, and scout out Mance Rayder’s host. We traveled deep into the Frost Fangs, a mountain range up there. But they spotted us, and we had to flee. Not all of us made it back.”

Snow took a deep breath. “We returned, and told my father. We met the wildlings in battle, and defeated their king. For my part in the battle, my father named me his captain.”

He turned to her, looking curious. “How is it that a princess ends up way out here?”

She couldn’t help but smile at him. “Like I told you last night. I can’t really be expected to sit in comfort while my home is invaded.”

Jon shook his head. “But surely you must know how valuable you are? That you could be used as leverage?”

“I wanted to fight,” she said simply. “My brother is allowed to fight, even though he would be just a sweet a prize to capture. Why not I?”

Snow regarded her for a moment, then his face split into a wide smile. “You are a remarkable woman, Arianne Martell.”

They did not speak again for some time after that, but Arianne could not help but but repeat his last words over and over in her head.

_I think I like this man._

  
When the sun sank, and it became too dark to keep moving without risk of falling off a cliff, they stopped for the night.

It was on a small ledge, much like the one where they had met the night before. Jon found some small shrub plants and was able to start a small fire. The nights in the mountains were not as cold as the nights in the deserts, but the wind could still bite, and it felt good to feel the warmth of the fire, especially since she had not been able to have them before.

Jon made like he was going to lie down, but he quickly sat back up and eyed her suspiciously.

“Can I trust you not to kill me in my sleep, or should I bind you until morning?” He asked.

Arianne rolled her eyes. “So long as I’m trusting you not to rape me in my sleep, I think binds are unnecessary.”

Jon made a face. “I would never touch you like that,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like that.”

Arianne narrowed her eyes at him. “Truly? Even during your war, there was no wildling girl you raped as your blood was hot with battle, no bastard you got on a serving girl at your father’s castle?”

“Never!” He barked, startling her. He swallowed, and when he spoke again, he sounded more measured. “I would never take a woman, and I will never father a bastard. Never.”

Arianne didn’t speak for a moment. She had forgotten that much of the rest of kingdoms saw bastards as sinful and treacherous by nature. If Jon had lived his life under that shadow, it was no question as to why he felt so strongly about fathering one himself.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I shouldn’t have insinuated those things.”

Jon shrugged. “It’s not like you had any reason to believe I was any better than any other man. Forgive me for lashing out.”

He turned away from her, sullen in his silence. Then another though came to Arianne.

“Have you ever laid with a woman before?” She asked him.

He looked at her, confused. “What? Why?”

Arianne shrugged. “Just curious.”

Jon gave an annoyed groan. “No, I have never been with a woman.”

“Why?”

She thought she saw Jon’s face turning red, but perhaps it was just the firelight.

“I had never met a woman that I wished to be with. I did not think it was something that should be done lightly.”

He looked up from the fire at her. “You can go to sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

Arianne almost protested, but then thought better of it. Thoughts swirling around her head, she laid down on the rock and closed her eyes.

  
Arianne did not broach the topic with him again for the rest of their travels. Instead, they spoke of siblings, their fathers, and friends. Then talk came back around the war.

“I just can’t imagine invading someone just because you were told,” she said. “To follow so blindly seems foolish.”

“To disobey a king is also foolish,” Jon said. “If you don’t listen to him, you might be the next one invaded.”

Arianne huffed. “A king is only as powerful as the people allow him to be. If enough people have issue, the king must listen, or be king of nothing.”

“That may be true,” Jon allowed, “but convincing enough people to rise against the king is no mean feat, and you aren’t likely to get more than one try.”

“Better try than be forced to do evil in his name,” Arianne countered.

To that Jon had no rebuttal.

  
By the afternoon of the second day, they had reached the northern edge of the Red Mountains, and by dusk they were walking across the Dornish Marches.

“Are we going to walk all the way to Nightsong?” Arianne asked him as they prepared their camp for the night.

Jon set down the bundle of sticks he’d collected. “Not if we don’t have to,” he said. “The western host was to meet at Nightsong, but when I left, they were preparing to march south. I should hope to find some outriders soon.”

Arianne nodded. “What are you going to tell your father?” She asked.

Jon took out his knife and began making kindling of the sticks. “The truth, I suppose. That I encountered you in the mountains, and that you wished to speak with him.”

“What do you think his reaction will be?”

Jon shrugged. “I can’t say for certain,” he admitted. “but I think he will hear you out.”

Arianne sighed. It was the best she could hope for.

  
They had encountered the outriders before the sun was high. Jon had introduced himself to their captain, Rolland Storm, the bastard of Nightsong, and explained her presence. Soon they were on horses, riding for the Hand’s camp.

Arianne drew stares as they rode through the camp, some angry, some simply curious, all unwanted. She found herself riding as close to Jon as possible, but she refused to be cowed, and road high in her saddle.

It was easy to find Lord Stark’s tent by the flags of the Direwolf and the Hand. Two men-at-arms in gray nodded to Jon as he entered.

“She comes with me,” he told them, gesturing to Arianne. “I promised to take her to the Hand.”

They found Lord Stark pouring over a map of the Red Mountains with small figurines in the place of the hosts. Alongside Lord Stark was a man who wore the arms of House Caron, another with a black fish on his chest, and a third that she recognized as Garland Tyrell.

Lord Stark looked up, and his face split into a smile at the sight of his son. Jon stepped forward and embraced his father.

Arianne examined the men when they stood back from each other. The resemblance was uncanny. They had the same long faces, the same dark grey eyes, and she would bet anything they could both be as cold as ice or as soft as fog.

“It’s good to see you back, Jon,” Lord Stark said. His gaze fell on Arianne, and he looked at her quizzically. “Who is this?”

Jon pursed his lips together. “My lord, this is Arianne Martell, princess of Dorne.”

Stark’s eyes flitted between her and his son.

“Sers,” he called back to the men at his table, concern and confusion on his face. “Would you please allow me some time with my son?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will feature the good King Robert, Ned dropping some bombs, and a concussion to a war that should not have been. 
> 
> Reviews, criticism, and all kinds of feed back always apreciated! Thanks for reading!
> 
> I recently made a Tumbr, also called LostMyWit, where is post visual aids, moodboards, and, hopefully, story snippets and other ship stuff, so check that out if you’re interested. 
> 
> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave your thoughts below, criticsm of all kinds welcome.


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